You open up your eyes just in time to catch the days first pink lick of sunlight peeking erotically through your partially opened blinds. You pretend you don’t notice as its gaze stretches across the room, illuminating a mess of dust particles floating in its path and gently rests upon the lumps at the foot of your bed, instantly warming your wiggling toes beneath the comforter.

You stretch out…wildly, your limbs reaching out in all directions, working the kinks of the first good nights rest you’ve had in years out of your muscles.

No nightmares.

You close your eyes and pretend the sun is your stalker. Oh, but one you don’t mind being stalked by. A lover in waiting.

Should you make it wait any longer?

You gently push the blankets aside and let its obsessive warmth embrace your lower body…massaging first your ankles, up your calves…

You slowly turn over on your side and let it caress the tender backs of your knees…up your legs to your bottom.

A moan escapes you as it inches along your crack and into the shadowy pleasure zone of your ****.

‘Dirty stalker.’ You manage through a series of short gasping breaths.

You slowly reach your hand down, down toward the most sensitive part of your body.

Your sex.

You roll back over onto your back and allow the warm hand of the sun to meet with your own cold hand and together they start massaging, warming, rubbing, fingering…

A kaleidoscope of solar powered sexual images swirl on the inside of your eyelids.

The climax comes quickly in a glorious eruption of nuclear ecstasy. Wave after wave of radiation sensuality washes over you as the final spasms work their way down through your flushed body.

Finally, the total warmth of relaxation.

Today is the day…you decide with a start…

“Today I will go on that picnic!”

 The remainder of the morning is spent doing some last minute chores. Things that probably should have been taken care of days ago…months ago…heck, some even years ago.

Letters to old friends. E-mails to relatives. Getting the finances in order. Calling into work to quit. 

You’ve always hated doing these types of things. Always procrastinated. Always hoped that one day you would meet the perfect mate who would gladly take care of them for you.

But that never happened did it. 

Oh well…No sense in fretting about it now.

Time to prepare for the picnic.

You do a cursory examination of the cupboards and fridge, even though your minds eye already has a pretty accurate inventory. The stuff you need isn’t there.

‘Guess I gotta hit the grocery store.’ 

You take a quick shower to wash off the dried sweat of your early morning masturbation session. Then dress in an outfit you haven’t worn in years.

‘Were you saving it for this day?’

“What…for a picnic?”

‘But this isn’t just any ordinary picnic…’

“Shut up self, before you ruin everything!”

Self shuts up.

You pull on your shoes and you’re out the door.

Did you forget to lock up?

Ahh, heck…it doesn’t much matter now does it.   

 At the grocery store you get a cart and slowly walk up and down each aisle. Your not sure exactly what you need are you? Better play it safe and look at everything then.

Let’s see…oh, some buns for the hotdogs.

Some condiments: Ketchup, mustard, maybe a little relish.

Oh yea, one of those portable grills…and some charcoal.

Ummm, how about some marshmallows. And some of those cheese flavored goldfish.

And defiantly some booze. What’s it gonna be…Irish whiskey…naw, need ice. Better get some cheap wine. A big bottle of Boonesfarm should do the trick.

That about does it.

Checkout:

Woman behind the counter: Hi, how are you today.

You: Oh, really good thank you. It’s so beautiful out…

WBTC:  Mmm, looks like it. Unfortunately Im stuck in here. 

You: Oh yea. Sorry.

Uncomfortable silence as the items are being rung up.

You: Im actually supposed to be at work today too….but, I woke up this morning and decided…screw it ya know.

WBTC: (smiles)  I totally know what you mean. (whispers) Good for you!

You: (winks) Yea, thanks.

WBTC: So, you have anything exciting planned or you just gonna veg out and watch some tube?

YOU: Ahhh, I’m actually going on a picnic.

(You wave your arm at the items you’re purchasing)

WBTC: Oh, right…sorry. After a while you kinda don’t even pay attention to what the customer is buying anymore. You just sorta’ move it along to the next person. (She laughs)

YOU: I understand. I do that at work too.

WBTC: Oh, you work at a…store…?

YOU: Oh no…I’m actually, ah…a teacher. Im just saying, I know what you mean. After a while you’re just sort of going through the motions…counting down each painstaking minute…until it can all…ya know, just be over.

WBTC: Riiiight. (A little hesitantly) Okay that will be $35.11.

Back in the car, on the road, fiddling around in your center compartment looking for sunglasses, you realize you’re not entirely sure where to have a picnic.

See, this is totally not planned!

You drive north toward the lake. Surely during the day on a weekday you can find a nice isolated spot to enjoy yourself. A little privacy.

And you do.

A perfect little picnic area where no one else is around. Surrounded by trees on all sides except where the trail leads in and where the lake takes over. Beautiful view of the water, which is quite placid today. The reflection of the sun is dazzling and blinding. Thankfully you found your shades.    

You spread a blanket out next to a tree and set the grocery bags down on it.

You open up the charcoal bag and dump almost all of it into the portable grill.

Too much charcoal? Naw…you want it to burn for a while right.

You light it.

Next you pull out the Boonesfarm and start taking hits. Very quickly you begin to feel its effect as it works into your bloodstream. More relaxation.

You open up the bag of marshmallows and pop a few in your mouth. Yummy!

You open up the bag of Goldfish and pop a few of those into your mouth too.

You never have had any self control have you?

Next you pull out the condiments and the buns.

That’s it. Bags empty.

Oops forgot the actual dogs!

Oh well, anyone could have made that mistake. Right, God?

You tear open the buns and start tossing them out into the water.

Fish food. Duck food. Whatever…shouldn’t go to waste.       

An hour or so silently drifts by and you watch as the sun makes its way across the sky.

Your bottle is almost empty. The goldfish are almost gone.  

You couldn’t have picked a better day for a picnic, you think.

You stare out at the still water…and start to cry.

‘They’re tears of joy!’ You try and convince someone. 

And then you realize, its time.

Time to go. 

You load the condiments, goldfish, marshmallows and garbage into one of the grocery bags and put it in the backseat.

You place the blanket on your front seat and then put the grill in on top of it.

You quickly close the door.

After taking a look around you drain the last swallow from your wine bottle. Your about to throw it into the water…but change your mind. You don’t like to pollute.

You jump in the car and toss the bottle in the back.

You turn the key and start the engine.

Adjust your mirror.

Put it in reverse.

Realize you’re drunk.

“****…I’m too messed up to drive anywhere right now!”

You turn the key off and decide it’s probably best if you just take a nap.

“Right then…I’ll just sleep it off. No harm.”  

Just ease the seat back…put in your favorite relaxing CD and…take a quick nap.

First, make sure all the doors are closed tight. Check.

Windows rolled up tight. Check.

Grills still hot. 

Good.

Now just lie back…and relax.

Clear your mind of everything…

Neighbors barking dog. Gone

Credit card debt. Gone.

The information you found on the internet about accidental deaths. Gone.

Just clear it all away…and relax.

Your precious cat Inara, hit by a car. Gone.

**** job that doesn’t pay ****. Gone.

Data collected relating to carbon monoxide poisioning. Gone

Let it all just wash away…

Certainly God doesn’t have time to check the cookies on your computer.

All just sail away… 

He’s got to be waaaay too busy with issues such as child molesting priests and suicidal jihad bombers and spouse killing ex-football players to bother looking at your temporary internet files.

All drift away…

Cheating spouse. Gone.

Mom with cancer. Gone

Statistics on how charcoal related suicides in Hong Kong rose from 1 to 25% in just under three years. Gone.

Soon…

you…

Gone.